


Say Something

by Deannie



Series: Tank [2]
Category: The Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Gen, inability to communicate, loss of speech
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 15:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1903437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is almost as if he <i>cannot</i> respond, and I wonder if he<br/>truly can hear us, but simply cannot reach us. Whatever happened to him in<br/>that alternate space, I fear it may be more than he can overcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say Something

Peter is still not fully awake.

It has been nearly forty-eight hours since we finally retrieved him from whatever dimension that portal was attached to. His electrolytes are, very slowly, returning to normal, but he has had little more than brief periods of semi-lucidity since his rescue.

These periods are frightening in the extreme for the rest of us, punctuated as they are by small, unintelligible sentence fragments and vague, unfocused looks--when he can be persuaded to open his eyes at all. His lack of comprehension when we speak to him is disturbing. I can only hope he is too exhausted or too disoriented for these episodes to register for him at all.

"Hey, Egon."

Ray, standing before me with a cup of coffee in each hand. He has said little to anyone but Peter himself in the time we've been sitting vigil here. He simply stares at Peter's pale, gaunt face, as if willing him to wake. If it would help, I would do the same.

Winston is snoring in the empty bed beside Peter's, and I envy him the brief respite from our agonizing wait. We have been lucky that the hospital is not at full occupancy, as each of us has made use of the bunk in the past two days--though rarely with any hope of true rest. The hospital staff hems and hahs, but they have yet to put up much real resistance to our being here, en masse, for the duration.

I wonder how much longer that duration will be?

Peter... has changed in the few short days since that disasterous Saturday. His face is much leaner, the circles beneath his eyes dark and hollow. Dr. Guider has likened his condition to that of a man left in the desert for a week.

A week.

The most terrifying aspect of all of this is that the doctor may well be right. We know from the Netherworld that other dimensions need not parallel our own in terms of temporal continuity. It is entirely possible that Peter _was_ in that place for a week or more.

Alone.

Perhaps he still feels alone. We speak to him and _of_ him often, attempting to reconnect him to ourselves, but I have rarely seen a response. It is almost as if he _cannot_ respond, and I wonder if he truly can hear us, but simply cannot reach us. Whatever happened to him in that alternate space, I fear it may be more than he can overcome...

His hand is clammy as I take it in mine. I have tried to keep him warm, but it is more his condition than the always cold atmosphere of the hospital that causes his temperature flucuations. His internal organs are--they hope--relatively undamaged from his prolonged exposure, but his arm is a maze of connect-the-dots from the numerous blood draws they feel obliged to take to prove their point.

"Peter?"

Raymond sighs as I begin, sitting back. He has spent his own many turns speaking to the silent man, and it is equally as exhausting to hear the others say the words as it is for each of us to say them himself.

"Peter, it's Egon... You're safe... You're in the hospital. Home." I sigh myself, squeezing his hand. "Please, Peter... wake up."

*********

You guys are driving me crazy!

I'm awake, already, okay? I've _been_ awake! So what if you can't hear me--you haven't been able to hear me for days, why should now be any different?

"We... sealed the portal, Peter." Good. Figured it'd never be safe to hang my clothes up again. "Please... You _are_ safe, now."

Safe... Depends on your definition, Spengs. Safe to me is home, curled up under a blanket, watching the rest of you try to wake me up. If I could _see_ you, maybe I'd be safe...

But I can't.

"Dr. Spengler?" Ohh! She sounds cute, Spengs. Gonna ask her out? One of us should be getting mileage out of the nurses, this time around. "It's time for his blood draw."

Again? They do a lot of these. Can't imagine what they hope to accomplish--HEY! That... Did it hurt?

Damn.

I... If I work real hard at it, I can almost see the paper I wrote for Pysch 509. At least now I can see something. That place... I'm glad I'm not blind to _everything_ forever.

Just to the really important things.

Anyway, the paper... Something about prolonged sensory deprivation causing... Shit, what was it... inappropriate responses to stimuli?

That's why the needle smells like it hurts, right?

I remember that. Barry, you were one crazy bastard, huh?

My fault, I guess.

I gotta try to talk again. It worked, about fifteen days ago--no wait, how long have I been back? Anyway, old college try, Venkman.

"peng..."

"Peter!" Okay, you're making my eyes hurt, squeezing my hand like that, Egon... "Peter, can you hear me?"

Okay, let's get this straight, Spengler. There hasn't been a point in this that I couldn't "hear you." I just can't see you or figure out "where" I "am".

"You're in the hospital, Peter... Do you remember?"

Of course, I remember, you idiot! That wasn't what I was talking about. I know where I am... I just don't know where my mind is.

You gotta "help" me "find my mind," Egon. I know it's in here somewhere...

"Peter..." I think his hand's on my face now... I think. God, it's like I can _feel_ him, but I don't know where he is! "Can you open your eyes?"

Funny, Spengs. I've been trying to do that for about a month--or an hour, or whatever...

"Please, Peter?"

Oh great, Ray. Don't you start in, too. Okay, fine. I'll give it a try... Again...

Big fuzzy blob. No, _two_ big fuzzy blobs. What are those colors, again?

Red. "Hey, Peter... Are you awake?"

I don't know. Am I?

And... shit, I forget the name of that one... Not pink... "Peter, can you hear us? Do you know where you are?"

Of course, Spengs. I'm in a "hospital."

Okay, no one should look that relieved that I know a hospital when I... When I'm in it.

"Yes, Peter, you're in the hospital. Do you know why?"

What is this? An "orientation" review?

Nice grin, Spengler. Too bad you don't mean it. "Yes, Peter. The orientation review. Surely you know how it goes?"

Name, rank, and "serial number." I get it.

"Come on, Peter..." Oh great, I'm scaring Ray, now. Like I'm not scared enough for both of us.

"Okay, good... I'm Peter" Venkman, Ghost"buster," and serial numbers are for "wimps."

Why are you looking so confused? What'd I say?

And just what the hell is that!?

There's... something. Something big and black, hovering over Egon's shoulder. What the hell? Oh wait... hallucinations, right? They go with the territory. Didn't Barry say he could hear things, too?

Wonder if the guys are really here, or if I'm just making this up?

"Peter," Egon's trying for a dry tone. Sounds absolutely arid to me. "Could you please attempt to make a bit more sense?"

Not with that big black gooper hanging out behind you, "I can't."

"I'll... go get a nurse." Do that, Ray. Maybe she'll see the gooper and do something about it.

"Peter, you were... sucked into a dimensional portal. Do you remember?"

No sight, no touch... Shit, yeah, Egon. I remember. Like the endless ten minutes I spent in the tanks getting them calibrated back in college.

Never did figure out how Barry managed a week in those things...

I'm sure as hell not doing as good.

"Are you cold?" What, I'm shivering? Can't imagine why! There you go, Egon. Grab a blanket and get away from that gooper... There you go...

"Is that better?"

Well, since the damn ghost disappeared, yeah, "it's cool."

"Do you want another blanket?"

What!? Jesus, Egon, make some sense!

Uh oh... Egon? What's the problem?

"Peter... Can you tell me what happened to you over there?"

I could try... Let's see... Big black "nothing..." Came and sucked me out of the closet--no, into the closet... And I "couldn't see... I couldn't feel" anything... And you guys couldn't hear a fucking word I said!

"Sensory deprivation?" There's the light bulb, Spengs! Way to go!

"Egon?"

Ray, please just lighten up, okay? You're gonna give me a "headache," hovering over me like the world is ending.

"Can you get him something for the pain?" What pain, Ray? Look, am I back in the Twilight Zone, or what? Aren't any of you tracking!

...Or is that just me?

"He's relatively stable now." I am? Cool. Thanks, nurse. "I'll go see the doctor. Once he examines him, perhaps we can do something about that headache."

But I don't *have* a headache! God, where are you guys getting these ideas?

"Egon?" Who's that? A big, dark... shit the ghost again... oh, no, wait... It's just Winston. "What's going on? He wake up?"

I've been awake "longer than you, Zed."

"Pete!" Okay, rushing into my face? Not good for Dr. Venkman's nerves. Makes what little I can see all wavy and... Shit, think I can work up to being sick? "How you doing, Homeboy?"

Just "ducky," Winston. Thanks for asking. Get me a throw-up cup and I'll be fine.

Well, at least *you're* smiling. Somebody should. Place looks like a God damned "wake."

"And about time, buddy."

What? Look, whatever. Anybody gonna be able to tell me what the "hell is going on?"

"Peter, do you remember the SD tests you ran in college?"

Of course, Spengs. I've pretty much been thinking about them "every chance I get."

"Winston, I think..."

Don't walk away, Spengs! Jesus, don't "*leave* me!"

"Peter!" Ray? Oh... Thank God, Ray... You're going to stay, right? Right!? "I'm right here, Peter. It's okay."

Define okay. I'm pretty sure this ain't it.

"So, awake at last, Dr. Venkman?"

Okay, tall, dark, and irritating, who the "hell are you?"

"That's a hell of a way to greet your doctor!" Screw you, pal. "I'm Dr. Guider. We've been keeping an eye on you, Dr. Venkman. You had us a little worried."

I had "you" a little "worried?"

"How are you doing?"

Just fucking peachy! Why's everyone keep asking that!?

Bright light! Shit! That... Does it hurt?

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

Five--three pointing down, two up. What? Not a good enough answer for you? Try asking it to somebody who can "talk," you idiot!

"Dr. Guider, could I have a moment?" Good, Egon. Make him go away. He's pissing me off.

"Ray?" Got it out in one! Man, I'm good!

"Yes, Peter?"

I know this sounds... Shit, Venkman, verbalize! I "know this sounds crazy, but" I feel like I haven't had anything to "drink" in a "week."

"Dr. Guider? Can I give him something to drink?" What are you asking him for? I'm a doctor too, you know--though why they let me finish my degree after Barry, I'll never know.

"Just small sips, Dr. Stantz. He shouldn't have too much."

Why not? When you're dehydrated, you're supposed to drink, right? And I sure as hell feel "dehydrated."

"Yeah, you're pretty dry, Peter." I just said that, Ray. "You... gosh, what happened to you over there?"

Okay, you know, if I had the power of speech, I'd tell you... But then I'd have to kill myself.

Water... Liquid of the gods!

HEY! "Not too much, Peter. You'll make yourself sick."

Well if I'm "not sick already, what am I doing in the hospital?"

Oh, shit. Kicked the puppy. "Peter... you've been asleep for... a really long time." Hey, there's a real puppy now... Basset hound... Ray? Did you get a puppy dog and not tell me?

Why is there a six-foot basset hound in my room? And is he supposed to be blue?

"Peter." Great. Egon? There's a big blue puppy in the room. Can you get him out before somebody starts sneezing? "Peter, I think I know what happened... I think we can help you."

Thanks, Spengs! Of course, I didn't figure it would "take you so long" to figure it out!

"I'm sorry, Peter." With that dry smirk? I doubt it! "I have had... other things on my mind." Janine, huh? Boy, I have *got* to get you a manual! "Can you answer some things for us?" Talking again? You know my track record with that! "Just nod for me."

Okay, nodding. I can do that. I have a head and a neck now, and everything.

"Peter..." Ah, the intense *scientist* look. "When you were... there... Could you see anything?"

Okay, how does that go... Shake for no, nod for yes? Does the fact that I'm already shaking all over count?

"You couldn't see?"

Okay, fine. I'll shake my head, too.

"What about feeling--could you feel anything?"

Head shaking, Egon. You see it? Probably not--hell, you can't even see the basset hound behind you!

"Could you hear?"

I could "hear you just fine."

"No, Peter, in the alternate dimension."

Yes! That's "what I said!"

"Oh, Peter..."

What's the problem, Ray? Why are you... Hey! Wait a minute, I get it... No sight, no touch... Barry, right? ...Oh shit, man was he messed up. Sensory deprivation tanks and psychosis and...

Fuck. And six-foot, blue basset hounds.

I'm screwed.

**********

Away from Peter's room, Egon pretty much falls apart. If he's right with what he's thinking, we could be in a hell of a lot more trouble than I thought.

"A whole dimension without senses?"

Egon just nods, more exhausted now than he was just a few minutes ago. "It's not only possible, but even very likely. Physical laws are particular to each dimension--they need not be constant across them."

Damn. I can't imagine... Pete could only *hear* us? Shit, I'm kind of sorry he could even do that.

"So what do we do now?" And why do you look like this is a whole lot more fucked up than even *I* think it is?

He straightens up, sucking in a deep breath. "James Palfrey was... part of a research project Peter took part in during college--a sensory deprivation clinic." Sounds appropriate. "He's a psychiatrist here in Manhattan now and I know he and Peter have kept in touch over the years." His eyes, when he looks up at me, are full of a fear I don't want to know about. "Perhaps..."

I nod, understanding. For whatever reason, Egon's not going to be able to make this call. So I'd better make it for him. "You have the number?"

He shakes his head, at a loss again. Okay, no problem. I can find a phone book. As I head out, a thought occurs to me, and I turn back to see him sinking into a chair, his head in his hands. "Hey, Egon... What am I supposed to tell him?"

He sits frozen for a minute before raising cold eyes to me.

"Tell him that Peter... Has spent too much time in the tanks."

************

Melissa?

Shit, Melissa, hasn't it been ten minutes already?

Girl, you better get me out of here before I go nuts. Who the hell thought this was a good idea in the first place? Okay, so I get a little more funding for my psi research, but... Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, I can't stand ten minutes in this thing--how the hell are you going to get anyone to spend a *day*?

"Peter?"

Ray? You're going to let me out of this damn tank, aren't you?

"Peter... It's going to be okay." He's touching me... Where? Arm, maybe? No... No, he's touching...

Shit! What the hell is going on here!?

"Egon and Winston will be right back..." Ray, what are you so scared of? You sound like you're about to explode. "Egon'll figure out what to do."

'Course he will. Spengs is brilliant, right? Forget the fact that he let me rot in that closet for a week--

"Peter?"

Oh God, I didn't mean that! "I'm sorry," I--you tried, shit, I *know* you tried! I could "hear you!"

"I know, Peter, it's okay." My *head*! He's touching my forehead, right? Maybe if I just...

open my eyes...

"Hi."

Hey, Ray. How's it going? Did you get that stupid "gizmo working" yet?

Ray of sunshine! Smiling like... sunshine, I guess.

"We only had a chance to run a preliminary analysis before..." Before what?

Oh, yeah... Before I interrupted you.

Wish I'd interrupted you "sooner."

Oh, Ray! Man, stop it! Enough with the tears, already!

"We're so sorry, Peter... We didn't know!"

I know you didn't, pal. I know...

So... So tell me, what about "the gizmo?"

Smiling again. Much better!

"Do you really want to know?"

Couldn't give a smaller bit of shit, my friend. I just don't want you crying anymore.

How's that nod go again?

***********

Egon's freaked. I've been on the phone to Pete's old college pal for a half hour, and Egon just gets wound tighter and tighter every time I open my mouth. The more I talk to Jim, though, the more I understand why.

"I could probably be there by four, Mr. Zeddemore."

"Winston." I hate 'Mr. Zeddemore.' Keep looking around for Big Ed.

"Winston... I'll be there as soon as I can. Let Peter know I'm coming. And keep trying to engage him--just don't overdo it, okay? At this point, too much stimulus can be as bad as too little." Shit, and I left him with *Ray*!?

"Okay, Dr. Palfrey, we got it. And thanks."

"No problem. Peter just about dragged me through our senior year--now I get to return the favor."

Pete... working hard. Somehow, as I hang up the phone, I just don't buy it.

"What did James say?"

Okay, Egon, I'm getting you a sedative. "He's on his way, man. Be here in about an hour."

Egon takes a deep breath, but it doesn't calm him down any.

"Jesus, Egon, sit down. You're falling apart."

"I don't have reason to?" He sits, wringing his hands. Not that I'm not pretty freaked myself. Pete's sort of floating around in a haze, and it's almost like a battle just to get a few words out. "I remember his early work in SD reactions."

Thinking about what Jim and I talked about, I'm remembering something else entirely.

The hole. It was the tiny little box the VC would put their prisoners in. Thank God I never had to see one, but I've seen the guys who came out of them. Dark, empty shells of themselves. That one guy, Sam... Never said another word--for *years*... Like he could never come back from it.

Come on, Pete... Just come back. I know you're trying.

"There was... a junior--Barry Smith..." Egon's looking everywhere but me. "The test team was amazed by his resistance to the effects of the pool, so they... attempted to gauge his endurance." Shit, *that* doesn't sound good. "He seemed... fine."

As he drops into silence, I find myself wondering what it takes to deal with that kind of separation. And I'm pretty sure Pete might not have it in him. He's got to have people. For a guy who can't be alone...

"So what happened?"

Egon looks up at me finally, his eyes haunted. "I'm surprised you didn't hear about it. It made all the papers."

"Egon," I remind him gently. "It wasn't like I was stateside Pete's senior year."

"No. No of course, not. I'm sorry."

Why do these guys always have to feel sorry when they remind me of that? Not like breathing every day isn't memory enough. "No problem, man... Just tell me."

"His... suicide closed down the SD project for two years."

I'm surprised I hear anything after "suicide." Shit.

"Pete's not like that, Egon. You know he's not." Who am I trying to convince? "He's *trying*! He knows we're here--he's got something to come back to..."

"Barry was engaged."

The matter-of-fact admission makes my blood run cold.

"He'll make it back, Egon." I gotta believe that. I have to *know* that Pete's enough of a fighter to make it. "If we have to drag him kicking and screaming."

Egon's face just falls.

"I hope so, Winston."

God... so do I.

***********

"And it looks like the computer model works!"

Ray.

"Won't that be great? If we can just adjust it to differentiate between the different subclasses..."

Ray...

"we'll know when to use the atomic destabilizer. It'll save a lot of time, if we can just get it calibrated."

Ray, if you don't shut up, I'm going to kill you! I swear to God! I'm gonna grab your throat and just--

Oh GOD! Where did that thought come from?

"Peter?"

I'm sorry, Ray! God, I'm sorry. I didn't really mean it, I just...

"Oh, Peter..." His hand is running through my hair now. I can feel it--actually *feel* it--now, and I want to--NO! No, don't close your eyes!

"Shit..."

"Peter, what can I do?"

You can... I don't know, Ray. I don't know what you can do. I think I'm going nuts. Just like Barry...

I don't want to end up like "Barry..."

"Barry? Barry Smith?" The big blue basset hound is long gone, but Ray's doing a great imitation. "Oh Peter, you *won't* end up like that, I promise. I promise!" I can feel the hug he gives me, and that alone is enough to give me hope... But God! I'm so sick of being trapped in here! It seems like it should be so easy to just...

Say something.

"Hey, Pete, how's it going?"

Bad question, Zed. Next?

"Listen... I talked to a friend of yours--Jim Palfrey?" Jimmy? No kidding! Why'd you--

Oh, I see. Well, at least a friend gets to "talk me off the ledge."

"Pete, it's nothing like that." It isn't, Winston? Then what exactly is it?

God knows, I think I might need it. I've heard it's worse to go crazy when you know it's happening... Like the fact that I know that tiny green bug flying around Winston's head is what we in the business call an 'asituational visual hallucination.' It's just like the basset hound, the ghost, and that two inch dancing girl that was hanging out on Ray's shoulder while he was droning on and *on*! They're brought on by the brain's attempt to return nerve conduction to previously impaired areas...

That doesn't mean I don't want to swat it.

And it doesn't mean I don't believe it's there.

And it doesn't mean jack shit, except that I'm "going crazy."

"Don't talk like that, Pete." Oooo! Stern words from the Zed-man. "You'll pull through this."

How, huh? If you can tell me that I'll get to the point where I don't have to force myself to talk, where I don't have to worry that I'm suddenly going to haul off and hit my best friend...

"Zed?"

"Yeah, Pete."

"Stuff it."

All that effort, and he doesn't even *smile*!? What kind of gyp is that?

Great. Now nobody's saying anything. Ray? You can go back to babbling now.

I promise not to kill you.

***********

James has been in with Peter for nearly an hour. Winston and Ray have taken the opportunity to run back to the firehouse and get themselves--and me--a change of clothes. And, I assume, to put some distance between themselves and Peter.

It is... more than difficult to see him like this. He wishes to communicate--he seems desperate to do so--and yet... There are simply connections that he cannot make.

I remember vividly the look on his face when he came home that day, after hearing the news. It was as if he simply could not believe that something as simple as a psychology experiment could go so horribly wrong. He had spoken, in the days leading up to... the incident--about the observations Barry Smith had made about his time in the tank. It was dark, but he could begin to imagine sight--imagine small, insignificant things at first, then large, elaborate panoramas. And he was subject to auditory hallucinations. Even after being removed from the tank...

But Peter... Barry had been a truly solitary man, very like myself. He enjoyed his time alone, reveling in the chance to spend time perusing his own thoughts. Peter is... not that way at all. He *must* be the life of the party, as if he cannot stand to be alone with whatever thoughts he might entertain. Given his life to this point, I do not wish to imagine what thoughts he has been entertaining all this time...

And I do not wish to believe that he cannot overcome it.

"Egon?"

I shoot to my feet, the lack of food over the past day causing me to sway slightly. Perhaps I should have allowed Winston to force breakfast on me. James Palfrey is poking his head out of Peter's room, as tall and thin as he was in college, his green eyes considered.

"James? How is he?"

He runs a hand through his greying hair as he closes the door. He is younger than I, and yet... Do I look as old, after everything I've seen in the last few days?

"He's pretty rough... I've got him talking--a little--but he's still in free-association mode." He smiles tightly, and my stomach turns. "I think that's probably better than the alternative."

"The alternative?"

"He's..." He sighs deeply. "He's been getting fixated on Barry Smith--for obvious reasons... I think the more confused his thoughts are right now, and the more we can draw him out and... sort of *teach* him to react again, the better it'll be when he finally has to come to terms with all of this."

"But he *is* getting better?"

"This is rough for him, Egon." Again, his hand goes through his hair, as he attempts to put his session with Peter into words. "He... He told me he could hear everything you guys said, like it was happening in real time... But when you weren't there..."

Time moved differently. And we were gone so much of that time--hoping to find him in *our* world while he languished in another.

"He's not dealing well with getting back to the here and now, Egon... And you guys..."

"He blames us." I don't bother to make it a question. *I* would blame us, were I in his place.

"No. No, he doesn't blame you at all--well, not much... He just... needs a little space."

"But every time we move away--"

"I know. I know, trust me. He was... pretty bothered being in there by himself--even the couple of minutes I was out here talking to you."

"I should get back to him, then." I cannot bear for him to be alone any more than he can bear it himself. He has spent too much time away as it is.

"Just go easy on him, Egon," James requests, his eyes dark with worry. "He's... not going to be real responsive for a while."

"But he... He's *here*?" I don't know why that question makes me shiver, but it does.

"He's getting there." James shakes his head, but his grin is more genuine now. "I got him to smile."

Such a small victory, and yet...

"Thank you, James. Thank you for coming by to speak with him."

He looks me up and down, and I know what he sees: the exhaustion, the concern. His next words are soft and considered. "I've got some time left, if you want me to pencil you in?"

I give him a small smile, which I know does nothing to placate him. "Perhaps later, James," I joke lightly. "I'm not entirely sure I could afford your rates."

"Hell, Egon, without Pete, I'd never have made it to med school, much less my own practice. This one's on the house." He gestures to the closed hospital room door. "And so's tomorrow's. I'll be here at ten."

I clasp his hand warmly. For a man who so diligently eschewed real relationships in his youth, Peter has managed to make more than a few lifelong friends. "Thank you again, James. We'll see you tomorrow."

"Just... Talk to him, Egon. Don't try to guess what he's going to say next--you guys are pissing him off with that--" He smiles at my surprise. "Let him take his time. He's in there... He's just having a little trouble letting you know."

He's in there. Those words are a balm as James turns to go, promising again to return tomorrow morning.

If you wish me to wait a week for what you have to say, Peter, I will.

Just say something.

********

It's okay. It's all right. Egon'll be here in a minute--Jimmy promised. He's just got to give him the low-down on Dr. Nutcase, and he'll be here.

I know he'll be here...

You know how there are some people you don't see for months, and when you do, it's like you were never away? That's Jimmy--at least today--and I couldn't be happier that he was here.

The last time I saw him, I was in his office, after Egon took that header off the North Tower. Hey! Psychologists need people to talk to, too! We have this strange kind of circle arrangement in the headshrinking field: We help each other, because we have to be around to help everybody else.

Like Egon. I... I don't know if I can deal with all the questions I'm sure he's going to have, but I can't help being *so* glad he's actually back...

"Peter? How are you feeling?"

But God, he looks horrible. I ignore the random images that race across my field of vision--I knew they weren't real before Jimmy got here, but at least he reinforced the fact that I'm not going crazy when I see pink elephants--and just sit up, studying my oldest friend. He's giving me time--*finally*--to figure out how to say this, but he looks like he's going to burst...

"Hey, Egon..." I'm getting better at this all the time. "Where's Ray and" Winston? Shit. "Winston?"

He almost collapses into the chair beside my bed, and I smile a little. And I know I'm smiling. Sensory integration--it's tough, but it's coming. Just my attempt makes him relax a little more.

"They've gone back to the firehouse to... collect some things. Janine is asking after you." He looks up at me nervously. "Would you like her to come by?"

Shit, Egon! I'm having a hard enough time with just *one* person around--and Ray? I think you may have to... God, just don't go bringing a party in on me. "Later... maybe?"

He smirks a little. I think he's going to be okay. "Only 'maybe?' I'll be sure to tell her that."

Don't you dare, you "rat."

Damn. I thought I had this. I don't remember this being as hard for Barry. He was...

Maybe comparing myself to him isn't such a great idea, huh?

"Peter?"

No, Egon. I can't... Look, I couldn't even really talk to Jimmy about it. "Don't ask me to, please?"

His hand is warm on mine. Like a huge water bottle (like the one that just exploded into being behind him), that's our Egon. Warm at all times. "All right, Peter. Whenever you're ready."

Probably never, big guy...

I don't know why this hit me so hard--hell, I barely remember any of it--coherently. Just... "floating" in my mind... And hearing the guys, knowing they were "so close," and I couldn't get them to--

"Peter?" Oh great--I'm shaking again. Gotta get control... I've gotta...

"Peter, please... Let me help you."

You "can't," Egon. I just... God, I have to get control of this... It's a little experiment, that's all... "One little fucking experiment!"

"It's over, Peter," Egon whispers, sitting on the bed, his hands sending shivers down my spine as they rub my arms. "This isn't like college, I promise. You aren't Barry Smith."

Might as well be Spengs. He never said it was anything like this! Barry never said that he couldn't even figure out how to... how to *say* anything! He was so quiet anyway, we "figured he was fine!"

"But we *know* you're not, Peter."

Egon's words are so firm, and his hands so gentle, that I look up at him. And for once, there's no pink elephants or blue bassets or anything but the caring in his eyes. He's here. He's here, and he wants to listen, and I want...

Oh, God, I want to talk!

"We'll be here, Peter." He's catching me up in a hug, and I can feel my own shudders shaking him. "We'll listen to everything... Just talk to us... Don't hide away."

I'm "not hiding, Egon. I *want* to be here!"

"Then be here, Peter... Be here with us."

I almost "was!" God! I could "hear everything, and you couldn't hear me!" It was like I was just a step away and "I couldn't touch you!" I was so close!

"I'm sorry, Peter." The whisper starts me crying. I kind of forgot I had tear ducts again, but by God, they work! "I'm sorry we couldn't hear you. I'm sorry we didn't come for you sooner."

You "didn't know, Egon."

His embrace tightens. "You had to know we would find you eventually, Peter. You knew we were looking for you, didn't you?"

NO! Damnit, listen to me!! "*You* didn't know, Spengs... You couldn't know where I was, or" what was happening.

"But to be able to hear us, and--"

"DON'T."

Shit. I didn't mean "to yell, Spengs... I'm sorry." I'm so sorry.

"It's all right, Peter. I promise." You do? You promise? "We just... *I* just need to know you'll be all right."

I don't know if "I will, Egon."

I don't know at all.

********

Ray... Man, he hasn't said anything since we left the firehouse. I think he's afraid to.

"You okay, man?"

He turns to look at me as he hits a red light, and his eyes are redder than his hair. "He's going to be all right, isn't he, Winston?"

Shit. I don't know, Ray. This time, I really don't know. "His friend Jim should be able to help him, Ray."

"I don't know, Winston..." He shakes his head and keeps driving. "I... remember when Barry--when he killed himself." His breath shudders out. "I had a class with him that semester--I saw him... that day."

Let me guess...

"Peter... He looks like Barry did, Winston!"

I reach over, laying a hand on his shoulder, hoping to comfort him, though I keep thinking the same kind of thing. Sam came out of the hole looking... cold inside. Like Pete does.

"Ray, Pete's got us to help him," I remind him. "And I know there's no way we're letting him go without a fight."

"No!" That did it. Ray straightens in his seat, pulling into the hospital garage with purpose. "We'll... we'll help him." He puts on those rose-colored glasses again and whispers tightly, "He'll be all right."

God, I sure as hell hope he will.

 

Egon's sitting silent as we walk in, and I can tell from his breathing that Pete's asleep this time, not just floating. Blue eyes meet mine, and he almost takes his hand from Pete's, but it's like Pete knows he's there, and won't let him go.

"Brought you a fresh set, Egon," I offer in a whisper, dropping the duffel bag on the extra bunk. If we can get Egon away from Pete's clutches, maybe he can freshen up... Feel a little more human.

I don't think he can feel better.

"How'd it go with Jimmy?" Ray's whisper is even smaller than mine, and I catch a look of guilt in his eyes that I've been expecting for a while. I wonder what started it this time--the fact that we didn't find Pete in time, or the fact that we had to resort to "outside help" to fix this. If it's fixable, that is.

Damn, now I'm just thinking crazy!

"James seems to think they're making progress." Not much to encourage us, but Egon seems a little more relaxed, at least. "He seemed a bit more responsive when I came back in."

"Janine said she'd come--if he wanted her to."

Ray's statement makes Egon tense again, and I sigh.

"Peter doesn't feel up to that, just yet," Egon explains gently, and Ray's eyes add another layer of guilt. Egon sees it too, but I don't think he knows what to do about it any more than I do. He falls back on facts. At least with them, he's safe. "Dr. Guider said he believes Peter will be able to go home as soon as he can... as soon as he is ready to feed himself."

Just hearing him say that--say it that way--makes me shudder. Pete... Pete's one of the strongest sons of bitches I've ever met, outside of Nam. Hell, maybe *inside* of Nam! That we gotta wait until he can do simple little things like feed himself...?

"We could..." Ray falls silent immediately. What the hell is the problem here?

"Raymond, what is it?" Egon's ready to cut through the shit right now. I'm not sure it's such a good idea right here, but whatever Ray's problem is, we'd best deal with it now. There won't be time once Pete's awake.

"Maybe I should... go home and wait."

*********

Maybe you should, Ray.

"Raymond, why on earth would you think that?"

Because I'm gonna do something I won't be able to live with if he doesn't, Spengs.

"I... I remember reading Jimmy's research paper on the SD experiments..." Great... the five-forty train to Guilt! All aboard! "He talked a lot about how... over-stimulation could be as bad as a lack of it."

I remember that, too. I also remember...

Stop it! The last thing you want to do is kill your best friend. You know that.

"You're talking crap now!" Yeah, I know, Zed. But I just... I can't get that much that fast! Input is... not something I'm dealing with real well right now. "Pete wants you here, Ray." Oh... You weren't talking to me, huh?

"But Winston... I tried to talk to him earlier, and it was like..." You were pissing me off so bad I wanted to hit you? Good thing I have *no* coordination right now. "I was bothering him!"

"We're all bothering him, Raymond."

Egon? Come on, I don't think I'd say that...

Actually, you know what? I *would* say that! I'd say that "exactly."

"Shit." Oh, don't worry, Zed. Not like you weren't saying anything I didn't need to hear. Now, just open the eyes again...

Ray looks like I actually did kick him. God, I don't know how... "I need" you guys to be here, I just... It's just "too much" sometimes, you know?

"Yes, Peter." Don't yes, Peter me, Egon. You sound so fucking... *Egon* when you do that! "I know... We have been... rather persistent."

Persistent isn't the word, Spengs. Try "annoying."

"We just want to help, Pete."

I know, Zed, I just... Shit, this shouldn't be this hard! Pull your head out of your ass, and deal, Venkman!

"Do you want us to go?"

God, no, Ray! If you guys leave, I'll "be all alone!" I'd... Hell, I'd definitely freak then. Not like I'm doing so hot now, but...

"Don't leave." Just be "quiet," okay?

Egon, I might have to change my mind about you--you look pretty good, smiling like that. Still don't want to see you in drag, but I guess you're not as funny-looking as all that.

"You are asking rather a lot from us, aren't you, Peter?"

Hell, yeah! I've "asked" a lot from you guys "ever since college." No reason to think "you'd let me down now," right?

"We won't, Peter." Ray, I promise, I'll never think... like that again, buddy. Just call it fallout, okay? "We'll never let you down."

Never again, anyway--right, Ray?

* * * * * *  
The End


End file.
